


Ordinary World

by Kittenmommy



Category: Absolutely Fabulous, NCIS, Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Autopsies, Crossover, F/M, Forensics, Gen, Mild Sexual Content, Patsy and Eddie swear a lot, Recreational Drug Use, Suicide, possibly disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-16
Updated: 2010-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenmommy/pseuds/Kittenmommy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ducky Mallard becomes involved in a case that leads to startling discoveries about both himself and the nature of the Universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Irregularities Will Be Handled By The Federal Agents of The Naval Criminal Investigative Service’s Major Case Response Team

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is rated Teen and Up due to swearing, references to drug use, very mild sexual situations, and possibly disturbing imagery. You have been warned!
> 
> STANDARD DISCLAIMER: _NCIS_ belongs to Donald Bellisario and CBS Television. _Sapphire and Steel_ belongs to Peter J. Hammond and ITV. _Absolutely Fabulous_ belongs to Jennifer Saunders and the BBC. The song "Ordinary World" belongs to Duran Duran. And I'm not making any money from this.

* * *

_Came in from a rainy Thursday on the avenue,  
Thought I heard you talking softly.  
I turned on the lights, the TV, and the radio,  
Still I can't escape the ghost of you._

_What has happened to it all?  
Crazy some would say.  
Where is the life that I recognize?_

* * *

He came awake in a panic, his rapidly accelerated heartbeat pounding in his ears.

It had been that nightmare again, the one he could never quite remember. He closed his eyes, thinking. There was a woman… no. It was gone.

When he opened his eyes again, his brain registered the fact that it was daylight. In fact, judging from the late morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, he'd overslept by several hours.

"Alarm must not have gone off," he muttered to himself, rolling over to fiddle with the alarm clock on the nightstand. He put on his glasses and peered owlishly at the clock, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Ten AM, and the alarm had gone off at six, just as he'd set it. Frowning, he reached for his cell phone and saw that he had seven new calls and six new voicemails.

_How in the world did I sleep through all that?_ he wondered. On the heels of that thought came another: _Hope my hearing isn't starting to go!_

With a sigh, he forced himself upright and slid his feet into his slippers. As he passed the windows, it seemed to him that the sunlight had an odd quality to it: it was too bright, too _much_. The edges on everything were too sharp, the world was too crisp.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "This place is nowhere, and it's _forever_," he murmured, and blinked. _Where in the world did _that _come from?_ he wondered.

With a growing feeling of unease, Doctor Donald "Ducky" Mallard retrieved his cell phone and began to review his voicemails as he walked toward the bathroom and the shower that awaited.

* * *

When Ducky finally arrived in the autopsy room, he was unsurprised to see that his assistant Jimmy Palmer was already there, wearing surgical scrubs and a clear face guard. He was more surprised to see that there was a body lying on the autopsy table, bathed in bright light.

The corpse wore a naval officer's dress uniform. What little remained of his face was completely unrecognizable as anything that may have once been human.

"Good morning, Mister Palmer," Ducky said, and Jimmy's head jerked up from his examination of the body.

"Doctor Mallard!" he exclaimed, surprised. He pulled up the splash shield on his face guard. "You're here!"

"Evidently, Mister Palmer," was the slightly tart reply. Ducky removed his hat and coat, and hung them up. "I see we have a guest," he continued, motioning at the body on the table.

Immediately, Jimmy's tone turned apologetic. "Oh. Yeah. Right. See, you weren't here and no one could reach you, so I had to go get – "

"Spare me the details," Ducky sighed. "Let me get changed, and I'll be right with you."

* * *

By the time Ducky had changed into his surgical cap and scrubs, someone else had arrived in the autopsy room.

"Where the hell've you been, Ducky?" Special Agent In Charge Leroy Jethro Gibbs asked. He took a sip of his coffee and continued, not waiting for an answer. "We've got a body."

"I see that, Jethro," Ducky replied, evading Gibbs's question. He peered down at the mangled face of the body, and felt his stomach lurch.

"You OK, Duck?" Gibbs asked, frowning. "You look a little green around the gills."

"Goodness, my stomach…" Ducky murmured, and backed away from the table. He took a deep breath. "That hasn't happened to me in a very long time."

Gibbs nodded and sipped his coffee, waiting. Jimmy decided to take control of the situation.

"John Doe, Caucasian male, age undetermined as of yet. No ID on him; the only thing on him besides his uniform and the gun was a small piece of mirror he was clutching in his left hand, looks like a shard that broke off of something bigger."

Gibbs's eyebrows went up, but he said nothing. Jimmy took this as a sign to continue.

"Cause of death would appear to be self-inflicted gunshot wound. He, uh, he ate his gun."

"Ya think?" Gibbs asked, rolling his eyes. "We have a whole sidewalk full of witnesses!"

"But it's NCIS policy that all suspicious deaths involving naval personnel or occurring on US Naval property are investigated as a homicide until proven otherwise," Jimmy said in the tone of someone repeating something he'd heard a million times before.

"Right."

"And what do your witnesses say?" Ducky asked from his position across the room. He folded his arms across his chest and kept his eyes on Gibbs instead of the body. "Was there anything to indicate that this was anything other than a suicide?"

"Nope. Witnesses say he ran right between two cops making a morning doughnut run. He snatched one of their service pieces, put it in his mouth, and…" He gestured at the body. "You know the rest."

"In the middle of a crowded sidewalk?" Ducky was appalled.

"Looks like it." He crumpled up his coffee cup and threw it in the trash as he headed for the door. "Get me something, Ducky," he said over his shoulder. "I've got witnesses to talk to."

* * *

"What've you got for me, McGee?" Gibbs asked as he entered the observation room.

"Nothing, Boss," Special Agent Timothy McGee said with a sigh. He didn't even bother to look down at the case file he was holding. "I mean _literally_ nothing. Our witness had absolutely nothing on him; no phone, wallet, keys, money, _nothing_. No ID. Putting his picture in the facial recognition software turned up, well, _nothing_. I even ran his picture through INTERPOL's database. No joy there, either." McGee shook his head. "It's like he doesn't exist."

"Hmm." Gibbs peered through the glass at the subject in question, who was sitting quietly at the table in the interrogation room.

He was a middle-aged man of average height. He had a thick head of ginger hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to dance with a secret mirth. He was dressed in a conservative grey suit and tie, with a vest that was made of some kind of shimmery silver material.

Though there was no way he could possibly see through the one-way glass of the mirror, he looked directly at Gibbs and smiled.

"I don't like this guy," Gibbs said. "He _feels_ wrong."

"'Hinky', Abby would say."

"Whatever you want to call it, I don't like it. Let's go see what he has to say for himself." He took the case file from McGee and opened the door to the interrogation room.

"Mister Silver," he said by way of greeting. The man looked up at them.

Gibbs put on a disarming smile as McGee shut the door behind them. "I'm Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and this is Special Agent Timothy McGee. We have a couple of questions for you."

* * *

_He races over to the doors with their red-and-white gingham curtains and yanks them open with the strength of desperation. He staggers back, barely managing to keep from plunging forward into the starry abyss outside._

_From behind him, she speaks. "We should have known."_

_He closes the doors and dashes back to the table where she sits. His voice shakes with anger and the slowly dawning horror of realization. "I'll get us out of here!"_

_He picks up the travel chess set and opens the lid. Small pieces tumble out onto the red-and-white gingham tablecloth, and she stares down at them impassively, unsurprised._

_It's only a chess set, after all._

_He drops it and moves to the window behind her._

_She speaks calmly, quietly. "I saw the future, and it was _our _future."_

_He grasps the red-and-white gingham curtains in both hands and whisks them open, appalled by what he sees._

_He hears her rise and walk over to stand beside him, and together they stare out at the endless starry expanse that will be their prison for all Eternity._

_For the first time in his life, he knows despair._

* * *

Someone was shaking him.

"Ducky!" The voice was female, familiar. But it wasn't the voice from his dream. "Ducky, wake up!"

He opened his eyes and saw forensics expert Abby Sciuto and Jimmy Palmer peering down at him, wearing nearly identical expressions of concern.

And his head was absolutely _pounding_.

"What…" He raised a hand to massage his forehead. "What happened?" he finally managed.

"You, ah, you fainted, Doctor Mallard," Jimmy said, sounding apologetic. "I mean, I guess. You just… kind of… I don't know, fell over?"

Great. First he'd overslept, and now _this_. Today was clearly _not_ going to be his day. He sighed.

"So we carried you in here," Abby continued, indicating the lounge and the sofa he was lying on. "I was starting to think we should call 911!"

"Thank you, Abigail, but that won't be necessary," Ducky told her, mentally adding, _I hope._ He sat up gingerly, still rubbing his head. "It was most peculiar," he continued in a musing voice. "I remember almost falling…"

"No, you _did_ fall." Jimmy assured him as Abby handed Ducky his glasses. "Like a tree that had just been chopped down."

"While you were out, you said, 'I'll get us out of here!'," Abby told him.

Ducky put on his glasses and frowned. "I did?"

"Yeah, and you sounded really upset."

He shook his head. "I don't recall anything, I'm afraid. What were we doing when I… ah, left you so abruptly?"

"We were undressing our John Doe, and Abby was bagging his clothes to take down to her lab," Jimmy told him.

Ducky nodded. "Go on."

"Mister Doe had that piece of mirror in his left hand. We'd just finished photographing it and you pried his fingers open. As soon as you touched it… well, like I said, you just fell over."

"It didn't break, did it? That's evidence!"

Jimmy smiled. "No, Doctor. It didn't break."

"Well, _that's_ a relief!" He gave them a look. "You preserved chain of evidence, I trust?"

"Of course. Abby bagged it and tagged it before we brought you down here."

"Excellent work, Abigail. As always."

She beamed at him. "Why thank you, Ducky!"

"And now I think it's time to get back to Mister Doe, and see what he can tell us about the curious events of earlier this morning."

"You know, maybe you should eat something first," Abby suggested. "Get your blood sugar up."

"I have a candy bar in my bag," Jimmy offered. "I always keep something sugary on hand because of my diabetes."

"Good thinking, Mister Palmer," Ducky said, standing. "And then we can get on with Mister Doe's autopsy. I have a strange feeling that the results are going to be very interesting indeed."

* * *

"So, Mister Silver – " Gibbs began.

"Oh no, just Silver, please," the man said pleasantly. He had an English accent. "No 'mister'. And what shall I call you?" He frowned, appearing to think. "Your given name is Leroy, but I believe people call you Jethro, am I right?" He glanced at McGee. "And you're Tim, correct? Or Timothy?"

"Listen, Mist… Silver. We're investigating the death of an officer of the United States Navy," McGee told him, trying to get back on track.

Silver's eyebrows came together in puzzlement. "Who?"

Gibbs was quickly losing patience. "The man who blew his brains out right in front of you a couple of hours ago!"

"Oh! Oh yes. Him. Poor, poor fellow." Silver leaned forward in his seat. "He'd been trapped for a very long time, you know."

Gibbs and McGee exchanged a look. "Trapped?" Gibbs finally asked.

"Oh yes, it must've been _dreadful_. I wish I could have done something to help him, but I'm a Specialist, you see. You'd need an Operator for something like that."

"An operator?" McGee asked skeptically. "Like 'Hello, how may I direct your call?'?"

"McGee – " Gibbs began warningly.

"No, no, not _that_ kind of operator. Look, I'll try to explain."

"That would be a change," Gibbs said.

Silver ignored this. "You see, it's about Time."

"About time for what?" McGee asked.

"No, _Time_. Time _itself_, Timothy. You see, Time isn't what you think it is."

"It's not?" Gibbs asked, leaning back in his chair. McGee recognized the look on his face: He was humoring a man who he thought was a lunatic.

"No, it's not. Time is like a corridor, you see. It's millions and millions of miles long, and it surrounds everything. It's so long, you can't even imagine it."

"OK," Gibbs agreed, still wearing his _I'm-Humoring-The-Lunatic_ face.

"Now, there are things outside of Time. Creatures from the beginning and the ending of Time. And they would _love_ to get into that corridor and make all kinds of mischief."

"Why?" McGee asked, in spite of himself.

"Who knows, Timothy? Who knows? And there's another problem."

"There usually is," Gibbs said.

"Yes. Sometimes the corridor becomes weak in places, weak enough for Time Itself to break through and take things. Take _people_. And once it takes them…" He shrugged. "It rarely gives them back. At least not without a fight."

"Uh huh," Gibbs said. "OK." He stood, and McGee followed. "I think we've taken up enough of your time, Silver. You're free to – "

"You don't believe a word of what I just said, do you?"

"Nope," Gibbs told him bluntly.

"You think I'm mad."

"Looks like it," Gibbs agreed amiably.

"That's all right. I'll _show_ you." He stood and walked around the table, moving in front of the one-way mirror. "Watch." He touched the glass, and the surface rippled, shimmered, and then _changed_.

The interrogation room and its occupants were no longer reflected there. Instead, Gibbs and McGee were astounded to see the sidewalk from earlier that morning, where they had been summoned to collect John Doe's mortal remains.

And it wasn't just a still picture; it was _moving_. The effect was exactly like looking out of a window.

"That's impossible," McGee finally breathed.

"No, it isn't," Silver said. "Now watch."

Their John Doe suddenly just _appeared_, right in the middle of the sidewalk. Two uniformed police officers carrying coffee cups were coming out of the Dunkin' Donuts to Doe's right, and he spotted them.

He bolted past two women, one tall, thin and blonde, and one short, redheaded, and dumpy. They loudly scolded and cursed him in English accents as he continued running, his eyes on the cops.

And then he reached them.

Taken completely by surprise, neither of them registered what he was doing until it was too late. Doe reached down and grabbed the first cop's gun.

Before the cop could even react, Doe put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Doe seemed to crumple to the sidewalk in slow motion. Blood and brains were everywhere. People were screaming.

The scene froze.

"There you have it," Silver said. "Would you like to see it again?"

"Yeah," Gibbs said, and Silver obliged.

"How the hell are you doing this?" McGee finally asked.

Silver smiled. "That's a very complicated question."

"No it's not," Gibbs said.

This time, Silver laughed. "You're right, Jethro. It's a simple _question_." He removed his hand from the glass, and the picture shimmered and faded, becoming a mirror once again. "It's _the answer_ that is complicated."

Gibbs sat back down in his chair. "Dunno about you, Silver, but _we've_ got plenty of time." He glanced up. "Right, McGee?"

"Right, Boss," he agreed, sitting.

Still smiling, Silver moved around the table and resumed his place across from them. "Now then," he began. "Where was I?"


	2. This Wheel's On Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STANDARD DISCLAIMER: _NCIS_ belongs to Donald Bellisario and CBS Television. _Sapphire and Steel_ belongs to Peter J. Hammond and ITV. _Absolutely Fabulous_ belongs to Jennifer Saunders and the BBC. The song "Ordinary World" belongs to Duran Duran. And I'm not making any money from this.

_Passion or coincidence once prompted you to say,  
"Pride will tear us both apart."  
Well now pride's gone out the window, crossed the rooftops, run away,  
Left me in the vacuum of my heart._

_What is happening to me?  
Crazy some would say.  
Where is my friend when I need you most?_

* * *

Special Agents Anthony DiNozzo and Ziva David stood outside the interrogation room, watching their subjects through the one-way mirror.

The tall, thin blonde woman in the stylish black designer pantsuit and the upswept beehive hairdo was slumped face down on the table, snoring loudly.

Her companion was short and dumpy, with frizzy reddish brown hair and a bright green headband tied around her forehead. She was dressed like a trunk show had exploded all over her, her lumpy body stuffed into colorful, clashing designer clothing that didn't actually fit. She was waving a lit cigarette around and muttering to herself.

Ziva held up two little red booklets embossed with gold lettering on the front: British passports.

"The redhead is Edwina Margaret Rose Monsoon. Born on August sixth, 1952, in London, England. Her companion is…" She hesitated, flipping open one of the passports and frowning down at it. "Eurydice Colette Clytemnestra Dido Bathsheba Rabelais Patricia Cocteau Stone."

Tony gave her a look. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Ziva said. "Seriously. Born in Paris, France…" She frowned down at the passport. "I can't read the date, Tony. It looks like it was scratched out with a sharp instrument."

"Huh." He watched through the glass as the redhead reached over and shook her friend's shoulder.

"Patsy, sweetie, wake up darling!"

"Space," the blonde muttered sleepily. "Hours will become days and months, and years will become thousands of years. There is nothing but space."

"Wake up, Patsy!"

Patsy immediately sat bolt upright. "I'm awake, darling!"

She grabbed her purse and began rummaging through it. "Had a terrible dream, sweetie. Trapped in a café in the middle of nowhere." She pulled a baggie full of white powder out of her purse. "It was like being on holiday with a bunch of Germans."

"Darling, you can't do that in here!" Eddy told her. "This is a police station, sweetie. They'll arrest you or something."

"Bloody bastards," Patsy muttered. "Suck the fun out of everything, darling." She shoved the baggie back into her purse and pulled out a bottle of vodka instead. "Drink, sweetie?"

"Oh God yes!" Eddy took the bottle and unscrewed the top. Patsy pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shook out two, lit them, and passed one to Eddy.

Tony and Ziva exchanged a look.

"Ready?" Tony asked. Ziva nodded.

Tony opened the door. "Ladies, I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, and this is Special Agent Ziva David." he told them as he pulled up a chair and sat across from them.

Ziva remained standing, her arms folded across her chest.

"There is no smoking in here," she told them.

The two women exchanged glances. "What's Secret Agent Unibrow talking about, darling?" Eddy asked, bewildered.

"This is a nonsmoking facility," Tony said. "You'll have to put out your cigarettes."

"Oh, bloody bother, bloody bastards!" Patsy said angrily, smashing out her cigarette on the table.

Meanwhile, Eddy was drinking the vodka straight from the bottle. "Here, sweetie," she said, handing the bottle to Patsy.

Tony was astounded. "Is that – " he began.

"Stoli, darling," Patsy said, and offered him the bottle. "Want some, sweetie?"

"You can't drink in here!" he told her.

"What?" Patsy asked, perplexed. "Why not, darling?"

"This is not a bar," Ziva told her.

"What's the fun in that, sweetie?" Eddy asked.

"We are federal agents," Ziva reminded them. "We are not here to have fun."

"Oh all right!" Patsy said angrily. She glanced around for the cap but couldn't find it. Unfazed, she stuffed the open bottle into her purse.

"Can't bloody smoke, can't bloody drink," Eddy complained. She took one final long drag on her cigarette and ground it out on the table. She glared at Ziva. "It's like the bloody Gestapo, darling!"

Ziva stared at her, open-mouthed. "Are you actually comparing me to the Gestapo?"

"Of course not, darling," Patsy said. "They had bloody better dress sense!"

Ziva began to reply, and Tony quickly stepped in before hostilities could escalate any further.

"Look, about our John Doe," he said.

"Who, sweetie?" Eddy asked.

"The dead man," Ziva reminded her, sounding completely out of patience.

"Oh, right, darling. Right, right. Shot himself, bloody crazy bugger!"

"Blew his brains out, sweetie," Patsy agreed. "Bang, all over the sidewalk, darling!"

Eddy was clearly distressed. "I mean, he got blood _all over_ my new jacket! Ruined it, darling. And it's a Lecroix, sweetie! A _Lecroix_! Stupid bloody police people took it away as – " she pulled a face and made quote marks in the air with her fingers " – _evv-iii-dence_. That jacket cost more than the two of you together make in a year! Now, _who's_ going to pay for it, sweetie, I ask you!"

Tony and Ziva exchanged a look.

Tony took a deep breath. "John Doe," he began again, patiently. "When did you first see him?"

"How on Earth should _we_ know, darling?" Patsy asked. "It's not our job to watch everyone on the sidewalk, is it sweetie?"

"Yeah, you've got bloody _police_ for that, haven't you darling?" Eddy put in snidely, gesticulating wildly "Bloody police who make sure no one's smoking or drinking, but don't stop bloody crazy buggers from shooting themselves in the middle of the bloody street!"

Tony sighed. "All right. Let's go back. What – "

"How long are we going to be here, darling?" Eddy whined. "There's shopping to be done!"

"We just have a few more routine questions, and then you can go," Tony assured her.

"You could come with us when we're done, sweetie," Patsy suggested with a lascivious grin. "Look at him, Eddy. Bet he's got buns so tight he'd bounce right off the walls!"

Tony ignored this, and also did not turn around to see what Ziva's reaction might be. He had a feeling that he could guess.

"Just briefly, why are you here in Washington?" he asked.

"Doctor Miller, sweetie," Eddy said.

At Tony's blank look, she rolled her eyes and elaborated. "Doctor _Paul_ Miller? Past life regressions? Ringing any bells with you, darling?"

Tony shook his head.

"Honestly!" Eddy was clearly exasperated by Tony's obvious ignorance of current trends. "He's got the most marvelous book, sweetie. _Find Your Inner Past Life Child And Your Soul's Secret Path To Ultimate Cosmic Enlightenment_. Haven't you read it?"

"No," Ziva answered for both of them.

"Well, it's all the rage in the _best_ circles, darling. We came here to get regressed by Doctor Miller himself."

"Impressive," Tony said.

"I _know_, darling!" Eddy immediately agreed, completely missing his sarcasm. She leaned forward in her seat, the better to connect with what she thought was her newly appreciative audience.

"He hypnotized me and I remembered it all! Sweetie, I was an Austrian nun in my last life! Sent to live with a widower and his six kids, darling. We sang and sang, and then fled over the mountains to escape the Nazis."

"I see," Tony said, and his upper lip twitched. He looked like he was trying very hard to keep a straight face. "That's… really interesting."

Ziva was more forward. "That's _The Sound of Music_."

Eddie frowned. "What? Sweetie, you can't be serious! We came all the way from London! I paid twelve hundred dollars for our regressions! That's…" her voice trailed off as she tried and failed to do the currency conversion in her head. "…a lot of money, darling!" she finished vehemently, tapping her finger on the table.

"Maybe you can get your money back," Tony suggested with a smile.

"Mine wasn't any better, sweetie," Patsy said suddenly. "Time traveling, boxes full of stars, cafés in the middle of the universe… it was like something out of an episode of bloody _Doctor Who_!"

Eddy snorted. "It probably _was_, darling! Twelve hundred dollars for _The Bloody Sound of Music_ and _Doctor Bloody Who_!"

"Ladies, if we could get back on track…" Tony began.

"Really sweetie, he's right. We _should_ get our money back!" Patsy told Eddy angrily.

"Tony, we are getting nowhere," Ziva said, sounding disgusted.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "I hope the boss and McGeek are doing better!"

* * *

"Now listen," Silver was saying, "there are Operators who are charged with investigating and repairing the breaks in the corridor, and whenever possible, retrieving the lost objects or people."

"Charged by who?" Gibbs asked.

"That's another complicated – "

Gibbs held up his hand. "Never mind, we'll get back to that."

"All right. Operators are sent to repair things, and Specialists – like me – assist Operators."

"That's not much of an explanation," Gibbs said.

"It's as much of an explanation as I'm allowed to give," Silver said, sounding exasperated.

"Allowed by… no wait, scratch that. Why were you there this morning, instead of an Operator?" McGee asked.

"Oh, there _was_ an Operator there. One of our best, in fact."

"But he didn't intervene."

"She, Jethro. She did not intervene. She couldn't, you see."

"No, I don't."

"She doesn't know who she _really_ is. She's human now, and she's lost her memory."

"How?" McGee asked.

Silver sighed. "Do you know what a 'walk-in' is, Timothy?"

McGee frowned. "Yeah, it's when someone dies, and another soul 'walks in' and takes over their body." Gibbs gave him a look, and he shrugged. "I love _The X-Files_. I've got the whole series on DVD."

"Of course you do, McGee," Gibbs agreed with a sigh. He turned his attention back to Silver. "What does this have to do with us?"

"Well, if she were here, she could give you all the information you need on that poor dead man."

"How?"

Silver only smiled.

"So, how'd she lose her memory?" McGee asked.

"A long time ago – "

"If you finish that sentence with 'in a galaxy far, far away,' I'll toss you in the brig and forget where I put the key," Gibbs warned.

Silver smiled. "Well, it _would_ be accurate…" At Gibbs's look, he sobered.

"Two of our best Operators – Sapphire, and her partner, Steel – fell into an elaborate trap set for them by Transient Beings. They were trapped _nowhere_, you see. Literally no time, and no place. And no way out."

Gibbs nodded. "I'm listening. I'm not sure I'm _understanding_, but I'm _listening_."

"I'm not sure whether it was Sapphire or Steel who hit upon the solution, but… well, _one_ of them figured it out. You see, when we take these forms," he gestured at himself, "we use the human genetic code as the blueprint. And as vast as the human genome is, it's not infinite. Every once in a while, there are duplications."

Gibbs held up his hand. "I'm no scientist, Silver. You should discuss this with our Medical Examiner."

"Ah, but I'm getting to him, Jethro. I'm getting to him. Now listen. In 1966, there was a dreadful car accident that killed a young aspiring doctor, and Steel saw his chance. The genetic code was a match, you see, and when the young man's soul departed his body, Steel was able to… _replace_ it with his own essence."

Gibbs was frowning, thinking.

"And then, later that year, a young woman died tragically of a drug overdose, and – "

"Let me guess," Gibbs interrupted. "Sapphire walked in."

"Right in one!" Silver said, beaming. "They were finally free, but the drawback to that freedom was sacrificing their memories. They literally _became_ the people who used to inhabit those bodies, with _their_ memories and personality traits replacing their own."

As usual, Gibbs got right to the point. "If they don't remember who they used to be, how can Sapphire help us with this investigation?"

"Well, you see, one of them managed to create an escape, a 'back door', if you will. If the two of them were to meet, were to _touch_…" Silver's voice trailed off meaningfully.

"They'd remember," McGee said.

"Yes. And they would be _themselves_ again."

"You'd have to find them first," Gibbs said.

"Finding them won't be difficult," Silver assured him. "In fact, they're both right here in this very building. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Well, gentlemen," Gibbs said, rising. His mouth was set in a firm line. "Let's make it happen."

* * *

"We have a couple more questions, and then you ladies are free to go," Tony said.

"Bloody bother!" Patsy complained. "Why'd he have to shoot himself while we were here, sweetie? Why didn't he wait a couple of minutes for us to get in the cab and then pull the damn trigger?"

Behind Tony, the door opened.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

Tony turned in his chair. "Yeah, boss?"

Gibbs was staring at the blonde, an odd expression on his face.

"Cut 'em loose." He turned to leave.

"Thank God!" Eddy exclaimed, standing and grabbing her purse.

"But boss, their statements – "

"You heard me, DiNozzo." And he was out the door.

Tony sighed. "All right, ladies. You heard him. You're free to go."

Patsy rose and picked up her purse. Vodka sloshed everywhere, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Your passports," Ziva said, stepping forward and offering the little red booklets. "And thank you for your cooperation in this investigation."

Eddy snorted. "Investigation? He stuffed the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, sweetie. Not really much to investigate, is there?"

Tony's smile was forced. "Nevertheless, thank you for your time."

Ziva opened the door. From the hallway outside, she heard a familiar voice speaking.

"I'm not sure why you called me up here, Jethro," Ducky was saying. "I don't have any new information for you. I've only just begun the autopsy, and we won't have preliminary toxicology for another few hours at least."

"That man," Patsy said, and her tone of voice made everyone turn to stare at her. Her blue eyes were huge and her face was as white as a sheet; she looked like she had seen a ghost. "That man speaking out there. Who is he?"

"Doctor Mallard?" Tony asked, frowning. "He's our medical examiner."

Without another word, she pushed past them and went out into the hallway.

"His prints in the system?" Gibbs was asking.

"No. We're still trying to identify him. Abigail has his clothing and that mirror fragment," Ducky said.

Gibbs and Ducky were standing together. McGee and a ginger-haired man that Tony and Ziva didn't recognize were standing a bit behind them.

"Abigail told me – "

"You're Doctor Mallard?" Patsy interrupted. Ducky turned, staring at her.

It took him a moment to find his voice. "Yes."

"I… do we know each other? You seem so familiar."

"So do you."

"You're… this is going to sound mad, but I think you're the voice from my dreams," she told him.

Ducky blinked, surprised. "And you're the voice from mine," he suddenly realized, sounding shaken.

Her eyes locked with his. Moving as though she were still in those dreams, she slowly held her hands out before her, palms up.

Without even thinking about it, Ducky extended his hands, palms down.

Silver stepped forward, grabbing Gibbs's and McGee's arms and dragging them back with him.

Patsy and Ducky's hands met in a blinding flash of blue light.

Tony turned his head away, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes. Ziva said something in another language; from her tone it was obviously a curse.

Gibbs and McGee faired somewhat better, having been pulled away by Silver. Their vision cleared before the others could see, but what they saw was so impossible that for a moment their brains refused to process the information.

There was a very long silence, during which Tony and Ziva stared in open-mouthed astonishment. Eddy blinked and rubbed her eyes. McGee gave a long, low whistle.

Gibbs opened his mouth, closed it again, and exhaled explosively. Finally, he found his voice.

"Hell, Duck." He sounded like he was about to say more, but the words deserted him.

Patsy and Ducky had undergone a remarkable transformation. The most immediately noticeable change was their clothing. Patsy was now wearing a dark blue dress, and Ducky wore a grey suit and tie, with a white shirt slightly open at the collar.

More astonishingly, the clock seemed to have turned back. Their faces were fresh and unlined.

Patsy's blonde hair hung down around her shoulders in a soft shag. Her wide blue eyes sparkled, and her lips were full and lush. Ducky's hair was dark blond and longer than usual, and his blue eyes were no longer hidden behind thick glasses.

They were young and vibrant and heartbreakingly beautiful, and the four NCIS agents and Eddy stood and stared at them, while Silver merely smiled.

"It's finished," Patsy said, releasing Ducky's hands and stepping back. She gave him a warm smile. "Finally."

"I told you I'd get us out of there, didn't I?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Took you long enough," Silver put in, and Ducky turned to glare at him.

Suddenly, Eddy pushed her way past everyone, grabbed Patsy's arm, and swung her around.

"Oh my God, sweetie, what happened, what have you done?" She blinked up at Patsy, bewildered. "Look at you, you're beautiful, darling. And so young!" She shook her head and continued to fuss over her friend. "What happened, sweetie? What did you do, darling? You've got to tell me, come on now, tell me!" She grabbed Patsy by the upper arms and began shaking her. "Tell me, darling! _Tell me_!" she demanded desperately.

Ducky grasped Eddy's arm and roughly pulled her away. "Enough," he said in a cold voice that was so unlike his own. But then he sighed, and his voice changed, softened, became more Ducky-like. "I know you must be frightened and confused, but everything will be explained in time."

Tony finally managed to voice his question.

"What the _hell_ going on around here?"

Silver smiled. "Gentlemen… and ladies, please allow me to introduce you to Sapphire and Steel."


	3. Patsy And Ducky Have Been Assigned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STANDARD DISCLAIMER: _NCIS_ belongs to Donald Bellisario and CBS Television. _Sapphire and Steel_ belongs to Peter J. Hammond and ITV. _Absolutely Fabulous_ belongs to Jennifer Saunders and the BBC. The song "Ordinary World" belongs to Duran Duran. And I'm not making any money from this.

_Papers in the roadside tell of suffering and grief,  
Feared today, forgot tomorrow.  
Here beside the news of holy war and holy need,  
Ours is just a little sorrow-talk._

* * *

There was a very long silence. Finally, Gibbs spoke.

"So, Ducky, you were saying?" His voice was remarkably normal, considering.

Steel turned to him, taking a deep breath. "I think – " he glanced over at Sapphire, " – that I shall be able to provide you with all of the information you want very shortly."

Gibbs nodded. "That's what I like to hear."

Steel smiled. "My dear Sapphire," he said, offering her his arm. Both his tone and the gesture were much more like Ducky than the little of Steel that they had seen so far. "Would you care to accompany me to an autopsy?"

"Why, Steel, I would be delighted," she replied, returning his smile. She linked her arm with his. "Lead the way."

"Well, _that's_ kind of creepy," Tony muttered.

"Come on, gang," Gibbs said over his shoulder; he was already halfway up the hall, close behind Steel and Sapphire.

"Darling," Eddy whined at Tony. "What the bloody hell _is_ this? I mean, first you drag us down to this police station and ask us all sorts of boring – "

"I'm just as lost as you are, ma'am," he assured her.

"I think we _all_ are," Ziva added.

Silver smiled. "Let's walk, and I'll fill you in along the way, shall I?"

* * *

Jimmy was bent over John Doe's open chest cavity when he heard the autopsy room door open.

"Ah, Mister Palmer, there you are."

"Hi, Doctor Mallard," Jimmy said without looking up from his work. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much, thank you."

"Oh, that's good," he said, and glanced up at Ducky. "Because…" his voice trailed off and the instrument he had been holding clattered to the floor. "Doctor Mallard?" he asked in astonishment.

Without even thinking about procedure, he pulled up his face shield and took off his glasses. He used the tail of his scrub shirt to clean the lenses, put them back on, and peered through them uncertainly.

"Doctor… _Mallard_?" he repeated incredulously.

"For the moment, anyway," Steel agreed briskly. He motioned his lovely blonde companion forward. "Sapphire?"

"Who _are_ all these people?" Jimmy demanded, indicating Steel's new friend, Eddy, and Silver with the sweep of his hand.

"Ms. Edwina Monsoon, Silver, and Sapphire," McGee said, pointing at each in turn.

"_Who?_"

"Don't worry about it right now, Mister Palmer," Gibbs said.

"Just go with it," Tony advised. Behind him, Ziva shrugged. McGee gave Jimmy a sympathetic look.

"Oh my God, darling!" Eddy suddenly exclaimed, pointing. "That's a _dead body_, and it's _cut open_!" She clung to Tony and buried her face in his chest. "Oh my _Goddddd_!" she moaned.

"Get her out of here, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"No," Sapphire said without turning around. "For now, she stays with me."

"It's a dead body, sweetie! He's dead! He's – "

Whatever she had intended to say, she never finished her sentence. Steel had come over and laid a hand on her shoulder, and she immediately went rigid and silent.

He turned back to Sapphire. "Proceed."

She moved around the autopsy table to stand next to Jimmy, who reluctantly moved aside to make room for her. She didn't actually look down at the body; instead, she stared off into the distance.

When she finally spoke, her voice was nearly a monotone.

"His name was Jeremiah Bryant Baldwin. Born August 17, 1910. Died September 9, 1978."

"But that's impossible," Jimmy protested. "He couldn't have – "

"Quiet!" Steel snapped. "He didn't die in 1978, Sapphire. He died this morning."

She frowned. "Yes. He was _meant_ to die in 1978. But in 1956, he got hold of a trigger."

"Yeah, he sure did!" Tony agreed. "The trigger on that cop's gun!"

"The mirror fragment he was clutching," Steel said, ignoring this outburst. "It was the trigger."

"Yes," Sapphire agreed.

"Doctor Mallard, you fainted when you touched it," Jimmy reminded him.

"Yes," Steel said.

"But Abby and I both touched it, and we were fine."

"Yes," Steel repeated. "I didn't realize it at the time, but it was protecting itself."

Jimmy frowned. "From what?"

Steel's expression and tone were absolutely chilling: "From _me_, Mister Palmer."

"What do you mean by 'trigger'?" Gibbs asked. "Is it dangerous?"

"Very," Sapphire answered. "A trigger is an object that doesn't belong. It's something that allows Time to break through."

"And when Time breaks through, it takes things," McGee remembered.

"Or people," Gibbs added.

"You _were_ listening after all!" Silver exclaimed, beaming.

"This is the craziest autopsy I've ever been involved in," Jimmy said to no one in particular.

"Steel, where is the mirror fragment now?" Sapphire asked.

A look of absolute horror appeared on his face. "Abigail's got it!" he said, dashing for the door.

* * *

"Ziva, DiNozzo, you're with me," Gibbs shouted as he tore down the hallway after Sapphire and Steel. "McGee, get the civilians out of here!"

"Not Silver!" Steel called over his shoulder. "We may need him!"

Immediately upon Steel's hasty exit from the autopsy room, Eddy had come unfrozen. Now McGee took her arm and tried to lead her away.

"What's happening, darling?" she demanded. "Where are they going, sweetie?"

"Don't worry about it, ma'am," he replied. "Just come with me."

_Hang on, Abby,_ he thought as he led Eddy down the hallway. _I'll be there as soon as I find someone to hand this dingbat off to!_

* * *

"Abigail!" Steel shouted as he burst into Abby's lab. He glanced around.

It was deserted.

"Steel," Sapphire said from behind him. He turned and saw her pointing at the lab bench. "Look."

"The mirror fragment!"

"Yes." Her hand on his arm stopped him. "Don't. Not _yet_."

Gibbs ran into the lab, his weapon drawn.

"That's not going to do you any good, Jethro," Steel said without turning around.

"Where is she?" Gibbs asked, panting. "Where's Abby?"

"Stay back," Steel instructed.

"Did you find it?" Silver asked as he hurried into the room. Tony and Ziva were close behind.

"Yes, it's here," Sapphire replied.

"Sapphire, can you take time back?" Steel asked. "Let's see what happened in here."

She smiled. "Of course."

She stood straighter, and went very still. A low thrumming sound filled the room, and her blue eyes seemed to glow.

Abby faded into existence at the lab bench.

"Got her!" Gibbs exclaimed.

Steel turned to see Gibbs dashing toward what he thought was his friend.

"No!" he shouted, and gestured at Gibbs, who was immediately propelled backwards to crash against the wall.

"Do _not_ interfere!" Steel warned in an icy voice. "You'll only get yourself killed, or worse!" He turned back to see Abby bent over the mirror fragment, frowning.

And then, she began to fade away.

"Hold her, Sapphire!" Steel said desperately.

"I… can't…" she replied faintly, as if speaking were an effort. "Whatever it is, it's immensely powerful."

They watched, horrified, as Abby was sucked into the mirror. The thrumming sound abruptly stopped.

"Abby!" Gibbs shouted. He picked himself up off the ground. Tony and Ziva were right behind him.

Steel turned and fixed Gibbs with a look, and they all stopped in their tracks.

"Jethro, catching criminals is what _you_ do," Steel said coldly. "And _this_ – " he pointed at the mirror fragment " – is what _we_ do. I strongly advise you to _allow us to do it_!"

Gibbs nodded and holstered his gun. "OK," he said quietly. "But you'd better get her back."

"I shall endeavor to do so, Jethro," he promised.

"What do you need from us?" Tony asked.

"Just keep out of their way," Silver advised, and smiled. "That's what _I'm_ going to do, anyway."

"I don't like this," Ziva said. "Not at all."

"That's fine, because no one is asking you to like it," Silver replied. She scowled darkly at him before turning away.

"Tell me about the mirror, Sapphire," Steel said.

She concentrated for a moment, and then began to speak. "It was manufactured in 1897 by a company in New York called H and L Glassworks. It's made from ordinary glass that has been silvered with a chemical reduction of silver nitrate."

"This is only a small piece," Steel reminded her.

"Yes. In 1910, the mirror was dropped and shattered into forty-seven pieces. This piece is the last one in existence."

"1910," Ziva mused. "Isn't that the year our John Doe – excuse me, I mean Lieutenant Baldwin – was born?"

"Yes," Sapphire said. "I hardly think that's a coincidence."

"What about Abby?" Gibbs asked.

"We're working on that," Steel said. "Can you make a connection?" he asked Sapphire. "Find her in the mirror?"

She nodded. "I'll try." She concentrated, and the air began to thrum with that strange, pulsating sound again.

And again, Abby appeared.

"Abigail, can you hear me?" Steel asked.

The answer came hesitantly. "Ducky… is that you?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Where are you? Why can't I see you?"

"Don't worry," he told her in a soothing tone. "I'm going to bring you back."

Sapphire's voice was in his head. [_It would be easier to let it have her. We could catch it off guard and destroy it._]

He spun around and stared at her, appalled. "That is _not_ an option!" His voice was utterly furious.

Their eyes locked momentarily in a silent battle of wills.

After a moment, she shrugged. "It will be more difficult this way," she told him.

"I don't care!"

"I'm really scared, Ducky," Abby's frightened voice interrupted.

Steel held Sapphire's gaze for a moment longer, and then turned back to the image of the trapped girl.

"I know you are, Abigail," he said soothingly.

"I don't know where I am!"

"It's going to be all right, my dear. Tell me what you see."

Her voice was hesitant. "I'm in a hallway. There's something behind me, but I don't want to see it. If I turn around – "

"_Don't_ turn around! " Steel told her urgently. "Keep looking forward, do you hear?"

"Why can't I see you?" she asked again.

"You will, I promise." He turned to Silver. "I'm going in after her. You know what to do."

"Steel, you _can't_!" Sapphire protested. "It's far too dangerous!"

"What's he going to do?" Gibbs demanded.

"Something very dangerous," Silver answered in an infuriatingly light tone. Gibbs glared at him, looking like he could cheerfully strangle him.

"Open the doorway and _keep_ it open," Steel instructed.

"And if I can't?" Silver asked.

"You'd _better_," was the reply.

"Steel, there must be another way," Sapphire said.

"There isn't," he replied. "And you know it."

Silver walked over to Abby's lab bench and put his hand down next to the mirror fragment. "Now?"

"Now," Steel agreed. "Be careful not to touch it."

Silver's eyebrows went up. "I'm not _entirely_ stupid, you know."

Steel didn't reply to this. Instead, he turned to Sapphire.

"Release her."

The thrumming noise stopped, and Abby disappeared again.

"I hope to hell you know what you're doing!" Gibbs said.

The surface of the mirror fragment shimmered and rippled, and Steel walked over and put his hand on it.

He gave Gibbs a slight smile. "I hope so too, Jethro."

He vanished.

For a long moment, nothing happened. The mirror rippled and shimmered again.

"Keep the doorway _open_, Silver!" Sapphire said desperately.

"This isn't easy, you know!" he replied, and the strain was evident in his voice. Small beads of sweat ran down his face.

From within the mirror, they heard Steel's angry voice: "_You_ cannot _have her!_"

And then Steel was standing in the middle of the lab, a semiconscious Abby cradled in his arms. "Close it!" he shouted.

Silver removed his hand, and the mirror was a mirror once again. He took a deep shuddering breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's done," he said faintly. He stumbled as he moved away from the bench. "I need to sit down."

Sapphire moved to assist him to one of the chairs. He sat down wearily. She stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders and murmuring quietly into his ear.

Meanwhile, Gibbs had approached Steel. "Is she OK?" he demanded.

"I think so, Jethro," Steel replied. He sounded completely exhausted. "Time will tell."

Abby moaned, and her arms came up to wrap around Steel's neck.

"Ducky," she murmured against his chest. "You _saved_ me!"

"Yes, Abigail. You're safe now."

Gingerly, Steel transferred her to Gibbs's arms. "Nooo," she protested drowsily, still weakly clinging to Steel. "Ducky!"

"It's all right, my dear," he soothed. He looked up at Gibbs. "Get her out of here, Jethro. And take care of her."

"Of course," he replied. He gently cradled her against his chest and left without another word. Ziva followed, looking concerned.

"What just happened here?" Tony asked.

[_Steel!_] Sapphire's urgent voice was inside his head. [_Look!_]

He turned and saw an enormous shadow rising up out of the mirror.

"Oh dear." His voice was perfectly calm. "I cheated it out of its prey, and now it's come for me."

Tony moved forward, drawing his weapon. "Let it come." His grin was feral and full of promise.

"Anthony, that's not a good idea," Steel told him. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Oh, and you have a _better_ plan, Ducky?" Tony asked sarcastically. He continued to advance on the growing shadow, and his gun remained steady.

"As a matter of fact…" Steel took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked. Still holding his weapon, he moved closer to Steel.

"No!" Sapphire abandoned Silver and hurried over to intervene. "Don't touch him!"

"I'm not going to _hurt_ him!" Tony protested.

"No, but you may hurt _yourself_," Silver told him. He got to his feet shakily. "Just stay back, Tony."

After a moment, Steel began moving forward toward the shadow. He held his arms stiffly out in front of him in a way that made Tony think of Frankenstein's monster.

When his hands made contact with the shadow thing, it screamed and vanished in a flurry of what looked like snowflakes.

Steel's arms dropped to his sides. His head fell back and he took a shuddering breath.

"Steel, you've done it!" Sapphire praised him. "It's gone!"

Silver pushed a wheeled office chair over to Steel. "Here, sit," he offered. Steel rather stiffly obliged.

He continued to stare straight ahead in a way that Tony could only describe as frozen. "It's gone?" he asked.

"No." Sapphire answered.

"N… not… gone," Steel's voice was barely audible, and Sapphire bent closer to hear. "Only… incapacitated."

"I know," she agreed. "But it's gone for now. It will be quite some time before it can move against us again. Now we have the chance to formulate a plan."

She glanced at Tony. "You can put away your gun, Tony," she said. "And could you help us get Steel to a warmer place, and perhaps find him a blanket?"

"What happened to him?"

Sapphire smiled warmly. "Let's get him somewhere more comfortable, and then I'll explain."

Tony holstered his gun. As they began working out how and where to move Steel, he wondered to himself what he could do to get Sapphire to smile at him like that again…

* * *

They were in one of the lounges, ostensibly making plans. But explanations had been demanded first, and Sapphire and Silver were trying to oblige.

Steel sat wrapped in a blanket. Four space heaters that had been commandeered from various peoples' offices were arranged in a semicircle at his feet. They were turned up as high as they would go, but still he felt no warmth.

Sapphire was explaining what he'd done: "He lowered his temperature to negative 273.1 degrees. Celsius, not Fahrenheit."

"That's impossible!" McGee protested. "That's almost absolute zero; no one could do that. No one could _survive_ that!"

From his place on the sofa, Gibbs spoke. "McGee, I don't think the normal rules apply to these people. Do you?"

"Good point, Boss."

Gibbs turned his attention back to Sapphire. "And what was the point of that?" he asked.

"Well, the creature is frozen for now," she replied. "It can't do anything until it thaws out a bit."

"And by that time, we'll have a plan in place," Silver said.

"That's the idea, anyway," Gibbs agreed.

"Do you know who she looks like?" Silver suddenly asked. He was staring down at Abby, who was deeply asleep on another sofa. "She looks an awful lot like Jet, doesn't she?"

"Mmm, perhaps a bit," was Sapphire's noncommittal reply.

"A _bit_?" Silver repeated skeptically. He gently moved Abby's feet aside and sat. "The resemblance is striking, if you ask me."

Thankfully, Steel's jaw was beginning to unfreeze. "No one did," he grated out.

"Ah, thawing out, are we?" Silver asked with a smile. "Or as much as is possible for _you_, anyway."

Steel ignored this. "Sapphire, what happened to your annoying little friend?" he asked.

It was McGee who answered. "Most of a bottle of vodka. She's out like a light."

"Creative," Tony mused.

"And effective," McGee said with a smile.

"I am not sorry she is not in our heads," Ziva said.

"Out of our hair," Tony corrected automatically.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the clock is ticking," Gibbs reminded them. "Let's hear some solutions to our little problem."

"Why can't we just break the mirror?" McGee asked.

"Yes, and then each piece would be _another_ doorway for that creature to come through," Silver replied. "Not really much of a solution, is it?"

"Can't we just kill the damn thing?" Gibbs asked bluntly.

"All due respect, Boss, but _you_ didn't _see_ it," Tony told him.

"It can't be killed, because it's not properly _alive_," Sapphire said.

"Ducky said it was coming for him, and it was _pissed_," Tony reminded her. "That sounds pretty alive to me."

"It's not alive the way _you_ think of it," she told him.

"The way I think of what?"

"Being alive."

"Can we try to get back on track here, people?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

As they continued to discuss possible solutions, Steel closed his eyes.

He wondered idly if Director Vance would approve a joint NCIS/Elemental operation, and then imagined the report that Gibbs would end up having to write.

It never even occurred to him that there wouldn't be an appropriate form for this situation; the time he'd spent as Ducky had taught him that the enormous lumbering bureaucracy known as the United States government had a form for _everything_. There would absolutely be a form for this, and no doubt it would have to be signed and initialed by at least five other people, and then filed in triplicate.

_This is mad,_ he thought. _Instead of helping them plan this operation, I'm wondering about the paperwork… and besides, it's likely that Vance won't hear a thing about any of this until it's all over._ He knew that Gibbs subscribed to the school of thought that held that it was better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission.

He opened his eyes and listened to the discussion for a moment.

Silver was standing in the middle of the room, a silvery web spun between his hands. He was proposing an impossible-sounding plan that seemed to involve something that sounded like a gigantic silver butterfly net and Gibbs's skills as a sniper.

McGee was taking notes in the corner, while Gibbs peppered Silver with questions about range and speed.

Tony was clearly trying to chat up Sapphire and was only paying attention with half an ear.

Ziva had taken Silver's place on the sofa at Abby's feet. Every once in a while, she nodded thoughtfully at something Silver said.

_My team,_ Steel suddenly thought, and immediately realized it was true. If ever he had to battle his way through Hell itself, these people – _all_ of them – were the people he would most want at his side.

Somehow, this would all work out all right.

He closed his eyes and gradually slipped into sleep, a slight smile on his lips.

* * *

When Steel woke, he realized two things: He felt much warmer, and he could smell tea.

He opened his eyes and saw Abby standing over him, holding a mug of something steaming and fragrant.

She smiled down at him and offered the mug. "I made you some tea," she said. "Sapphire said you might want something warm to drink when you woke up."

He freed one of his arms from his blanket cocoon and carefully accepted the hot mug. He took a sip and noted that it was made correctly, with loose tea leaves, just the way he… no, the way _Ducky_ liked it.

"This is very good."

She smiled like a child who had just been praised by a favorite teacher. "I got the tea in your office," she explained. "And you showed me how you make it once, remember? But I still wasn't sure I did it right."

"No, no, it's perfect," he assured her, and smiled. "Thank you."

"No, thank _you_! You saved me from that… whatever it was. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," he assured her. "I wasn't going to let that _thing_ have you."

"What you did? That was incredible!" she gushed. "I don't really remember anything, but Gibbs told me all about it. And Sapphire explained who you guys are and what you do… well, she _kind of_ explained it. It really didn't make much sense, you know?"

"Mmm," was his reply. As he sipped his tea, it suddenly occurred to him that they were alone in the lounge. "Where has everyone else gone?" he asked.

"Down to my lab. That guy, Silver? He has this plan to get rid of that thing. He said that if Gibbs – "

"_Silver_ has a plan?" he asked, sounding horrified.

"Yeah. He said you wouldn't be happy about it but you needed your rest anyway so it was best not to wake you up. See, he and Sapphire… hey, what are you doing?"

He struggled to free his other arm from the blanket, and set the cup of tea on a nearby table. "I've got to get down there!"

"Whoa, wait a minute! You can't do that!" she protested. "Sapphire said I'm supposed to keep you up here and make sure that you – "

"Sapphire is _not_ my superior, and she's certainly not yours," he told her rather tartly.

"Yeah, but – "

"I don't have time to discuss this any further!" He rose, shrugged off the blanket, and gingerly picked his way between the very hot space heaters arranged at his feet. "I've got to get down there before they let Silver _really_ make a mess of things!"

There were very few things in the Universe that were capable of moving Steel against his will. Abby's hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks, and he turned to face her.

"Don't," she said, and he could see the worry in her light blue eyes. She took a deep breath.

"Please, Ducky. Look, everyone else is down there right now. Gibbs, McGee, Tony, Ziva…" Hysteria was beginning to creep into her voice. "And they might not come back! And now _you_ want to go down there too, and if something happens to you – "

Gently, he grasped her arms and held her still until she calmed down and looked into his eyes.

"Abigail, nothing is going to happen to me," he said in a gentle voice.

There were tears in her eyes. "Promise?" Her lower lip trembled.

"_Everyone_ will have a better chance of coming out of this alive if you allow me to go down there and stop them from destroying your lab… and possibly the entire planet along with it! All right?"

She nodded, sniffling.

"And you _stay here_," he admonished. "That thing has already had a little taste of you, and I don't want it getting any more ideas. All right?" he repeated.

"Yeah," she agreed quietly.

"_Promise me_, Abigail, that you will _stay here_," he insisted, and gave her a little shake for emphasis.

"I promise."

"Good." He released her arms.

"Ducky… " She made a hesitant sound, as though she wanted to say more.

Before he realized what she intended to do, she had already done it.

Her voice was barely audible. "For luck," she explained, staring at the floor.

He nodded and left without another word, her kiss still tingling on his lips.

* * *

Steel had thought it best to travel from place to place in this building in the normal way when others were watching, but as he had no audience at the moment, he simply disappeared from the hallway outside the lounge and reappeared up the hall from Abby's lab.

As he rounded the corner, he saw Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva standing together. Gibbs had his weapon drawn and was sighting along its barrel.

"Jethro, what are you doing?"

"You're awake," Gibbs said, sounding mildly surprised.

"Yes, I'm awake. Now tell me, what on Earth are you doing?"

"Your pal Silver – " Tony began.

"He is _not_ my 'pal'!" Steel spat angrily.

"Ooo, am I sensing some hostility here?" Tony asked.

Ziva saw that Steel was quickly growing exasperated. "We are going to lure the creature out," she explained. "And then Silver and McGee will trap it, and then Gibbs and Tony will shoot it."

Steel marveled at how she made this utter insanity sound like the most reasonable plan in the world.

"And Sapphire?" he asked, wondering how in the world the other Elemental had been coaxed into going along with this madness. He knew that she had more sense than this… usually.

"She will hold the creature," Ziva told him.

"This is absolute madness," he told her. "That thing _cannot be killed_! It's not going to mind those bullets much!"

"Silver bullets," Tony said, holding up an example. "Made by Silver himself."

"I should have known," Steel said, rolling his eyes. [_Sapphire,_] he sent to her.

[_Yes?_]

[_What are you doing in there?_]

He could hear the smile in her mental voice. [_Come inside and see._]

He moved toward the door to Abby's lab, and was surprised that it didn't slide open automatically at his approach. He turned and gave Gibbs a questioning look.

"Lockdown," Gibbs explained. "Nothing and no one gets in or out without authorization."

Steel nodded approvingly; at least _someone_ was using his brain around here. Not that a mere lock would keep the creature contained should it wake up and come out of the mirror, but until then it _would_ keep innocent people out of Abby's lab and thus out of danger.

Theoretically, anyway.

He went to the keypad next to the door and punched in his… no, _Ducky's_ authorization code, and the doors slid open.

"Ah, Steel, so good of you to join us," Silver said with a smile. "Come see what Timothy and I have been working on."

"I _still_ don't understand how he did this," McGee said. He held up a piece of mirror. "He made an _exact copy_ of our mirror fragment, but _backwards_."

Steel's eyebrows went up. "Backwards? Ahhh…" He was beginning to see what Silver and Sapphire had in mind.

"We'll send the creature back down the corridor," Sapphire said, "and then place the shiny surface of Silver's mirror against the shiny surface of the mirror fragment." She brought the palms of her hands together in demonstration, looking like a person in prayer.

"And it will be trapped inside forever," Steel finished.

"Exactly," she agreed with a smile.

"When it first comes out, I've got a surprise for it," Silver said. He held up part of a silvery net. "Titanium, coated with silvering," he explained. "Excellent for holding monsters at bay."

Steel frowned. "What makes you think that will contain it?"

McGee answered. "He analyzed the silvering on the back of the mirror, and duplicated it exactly for the net." He shrugged. "Well, that's what he _said_, anyway. None of this makes any sense to me."

The door slid open and Ziva entered, followed by Gibbs and Tony. The two men took up positions just inside the door, waiting.

"The creature has been inside the mirror fragment for so long – " Sapphire began.

" – that it will think that the netting is just an extension of it," Steel finished. "Yes, I see what you're trying to do."

"The bullets that Silver made for Tony and Jethro are the same as the net," Sapphire added. "They won't kill it, but they _will_ propel it far down the corridor."

"Hmm," Steel said. This actually wasn't a bad plan, but he was loath to admit this to Silver. Instead, he said, "And Ziva's role in this is…?"

Ziva gave him a smile that most people would find deeply unsettling. "Bait."

"No!" Steel protested, horrified. "Ziva, you cannot – "

"There's no one else," Silver said from behind him. "And she _did_ volunteer."

"Of _course_ she volunteered, she is fearless!" Steel said, glaring angrily at Silver. "She was Mossad!"

Silver's eyebrows went up. "Was she _really_? How _interesting_."

"Ducky, it is too late to change the plan now," Ziva said briskly. She turned to Sapphire. "What must I do?"

"Is everyone ready?" Sapphire asked. She glanced at Tony and Gibbs, who were holding their weapons at the ready. Both nodded silently. "All right, Ziva. Just let it know you're here. It will come."

"I don't like this," Steel muttered, moving to stand behind Sapphire.

"It _will_ work," she assured him.

Meanwhile, Ziva had stepped out into the middle of the lab.

"Here I am, you nameless abomination!" she proclaimed. "Show yourself, coward!" Suddenly, she was holding a very sharp-looking knife in her right hand. Her eyes narrowed. "I am eager to meet you!"

[_Wait a minute, where did she get that knife?_] Silver's surprised voice asked inside Steel's head.

[_I_ told _you she was Mossad!_] was Steel's tart reply.

Sapphire was moving. "Ziva, you can't fight this thing – "

"You will die a thousand deaths!" Ziva was taunting it, brandishing the knife. Silver put his face in his hands and groaned.

The room began to darken; the creature was awake, and it was _coming_.

"Silver!" McGee shouted, and the Elemental's head snapped up in surprise.

"Oh my," he said, his blue eyes widening almost comically. "Timothy, are you ready?"

"Yeah." He was holding one edge of the silver net.

As the creature began to rise up out of the mirror, Ziva fearlessly stood her ground.

"I am here! Are you blind as well as stupid?"

"Ziva, that is _enough_!" Steel shouted.

The creature seemed to bear down on Ziva. She raised her knife.

"Now!" Silver yelled, and he and McGee brought the silver net up over the creature.

"Hold it!" Steel told Sapphire. Her blue eyes began to glow, and a low pulsating sound filled the room.

"Now?" Gibbs asked, bringing up his gun.

"No…" Steel watched the creature writhe in its silvery prison. He held up his hand, and Ziva was propelled out of the creature's path, as well as the line of fire. "Now, Jethro! _Now!_"

"Fire at will, DiNozzo!" Gibbs said, and the sound of their weapons in the enclosed space of the lab was deafening.

The creature was driven back toward the mirror, vanishing against its shiny surface. The empty silver net fell to the floor. The thrumming, pulsing sound stopped.

McGee hurried over to the lab bench and pressed the copied mirror fragment against the original, trapping the creature inside.

"Steel, would you…?" Silver asked.

"Certainly." He went to the lab bench and put his hand flat on the twin mirrors. There was a hissing sound, and when he pulled his hand away, there was nothing but a lump of molten glass.

Tony gave him a questioning look.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Steel said. "It would appear that the first – and probably only – joint NCIS/Elemental operation is a success." He smiled, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "All that's left now is the paperwork."

"And maybe a couple of drinks," Tony added. He caught Sapphire's eye, and she smiled.

Gibbs holstered his gun. "Works for me."


	4. The Ordinary World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STANDARD DISCLAIMER: _NCIS_ belongs to Donald Bellisario and CBS Television. _Sapphire and Steel_ belongs to Peter J. Hammond and ITV. _Absolutely Fabulous_ belongs to Jennifer Saunders and the BBC. The song "Ordinary World" belongs to Duran Duran. And I'm not making any money from this.

_But I won't cry for yesterday  
There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find.  
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world  
I will learn to survive._

* * *

Silver found Steel alone in the darkened autopsy room, sitting in a pool of light at Ducky's desk doing Ducky's paperwork, a glass of Ducky's excellent single malt scotch at his side.

"Well, _this_ is a surprise," he said. He moved an empty chair next to Ducky's desk and sat.

"Make yourself at home, why don't you?" Steel asked without looking up from his paperwork.

"Don't mind if I do," Silver agreed. He touched Steel's glass, and immediately raised an identical glass to his own lips and drank.

"Haven't you got anything better to do?" Steel asked irritably.

"At the moment, no." Silver leaned back in his chair and studied the other Elemental. "And I'm surprised that you _don't_ have anything better to do. Paperwork, Steel? _Really_?"

"_Someone's_ got to do it," was the terse reply.

"And I don't recall you ever drinking alcohol before," Silver mused. "Developed a taste for it, have you?"

Steel finally looked up. "Is there something in particular you want, or are you merely here to annoy me?"

"You've changed, you know," Silver told him. "Before, you'd have let that creature have that poor girl. I'm sure you remember Mister Tully."

Steel glared at him. "I do. Sapphire and I did our duty. Do you honestly think that either of us _liked_ it?"

"And yet, this time it was _Sapphire_ who wanted to sacrifice the ephemeral, and _you_ who fought to save her."

"Is there a point to any of this?"

Silver smiled. "Not really." He finished his drink and stood. "It's interesting how experience changes one, isn't it, _Doctor Mallard_?"

Long after Silver had left, Steel was still sitting at Ducky's desk, staring into space, thinking.

* * *

"Patsy used to date Keith Moon, sweetie," Eddy said, taking a sip of her drink.

They were in the living room of Ducky's house, relaxing in the warm glow of the fireplace. Sapphire had cooked an enormous meal, and the wine had flowed freely.

"I want to hear _this_ story!" Tony said. He leaned back in his seat. "Was it a long time thing, or did – "

"Oh, we didn't really _date_," Sapphire said. She looked embarrassed.

"Right, right," Eddy remembered. She took a long drag on her cigarette and exhaled smoke through her nose. "You sort of woke up underneath him in his hotel room, didn't you, sweetie?"

"How _mortifying_," Silver murmured.

Sapphire caught his eye, and shrugged. "It was the Sixties, darling," she said offhandedly, suddenly channeling Patsy. "That was practically going steady!"

"I've seen Ducky high on morphine," Abby suddenly volunteered. She giggled, and then quickly sobered. "I mean, OK, it wasn't funny at the time. But now… well, he was zonked out of his gourd!"

"Called me 'sweetie'," Gibbs added in a deadpan voice, and knocked back the rest of his bourbon.

"Why, Steel, I never would have guessed!" Sapphire teased, and Eddy laughed.

"It's just like my second husband, darling," she reminded Sapphire. "We're always the last to know!"

Steel stood. "Would you care for another drink, Jethro?" he asked with enormous dignity. "I've got another bottle in the kitchen."

Gibbs's eyebrows went up. "Sure, Duck," he agreed, also standing.

"See you later, sweetie!" Silver called out after Gibbs, causing Sapphire and Eddy to dissolve into new fits of laughter.

"I think they're _all_ drunk," Steel said under his breath. But Gibbs had heard him.

"I think you're right," he agreed equally quietly, and the two shared a smile.

As they left, Ziva began recounting a particularly embarrassing episode involving a phone number mix-up between Tony's cell phone number and one that had formerly belonged to a gay hustler. McGee took particular delight in filling in all of the mortifying little details that Ziva had forgotten.

"So, what's up, Ducky?" Gibbs asked when they reached the kitchen. Steel located a new bottle of bourbon and refilled Gibbs's glass.

"You still call me Ducky," he mused. "Everyone does."

"Would you rather we call you Steel?"

"No!" He sounded horrified by the suggestion. "No," he repeated more quietly. "Not you, not the team… it wouldn't be… _right_." He sighed.

He got a glass and poured himself a scotch. He was silent for a moment, staring down into the amber depths of his drink. "I don't know who I am anymore, Jethro," he admitted quietly.

Gibbs nodded and sipped his drink. "Well, who do you _feel like_?"

Steel's chuckle was bitter. "That depends on when you ask."

Gibbs's next question seemed to come out of left field. "So who's Jet?"

Steel's head came up. "What?"

"Silver said that Abby – "

"Looks like Jet," Steel finished. "Yes, I remember."

"Does she?"

"I suppose she does if you squint. Jet has black hair. Other than that… well, Silver likes to needle me."

Gibbs smiled. "Is that a pun?"

"What?" Steel mentally ran back over his last sentence – _Silver likes to needle me_ – and chuckled. "God, no." He sipped his scotch. "Sapphire is lucky," he finally said.

"How so?"

"Well, her life as Patsy Stone has absolutely nothing to recommend it. She's probably relieved to be giving it up."

Gibbs looked skeptical. "You sure about that?"

"Of course! Why would she want to continue a meaningless, shallow life of drink and debauchery?"

"Dunno, Duck. Sounds like it could be fun."

"And now _you're_ needling me!" He shook his head. "My life as Ducky at least had some meaning, some _purpose_. Ducky was a doctor. He _helped_ people. Or at least he tried to… I can only hope that he helped more people than he harmed."

"All doctors say that, don't they?"

"Yes."

"And what about Steel? Did he help people?"

Steel's short laugh was bitter. "You should ask a man named Tully. Oh, but you _can't_, because _I_ condemned him to a living hell, an eternity of undeath, trapped forever so that Time itself could feed off of his resentment and pain."

Gibbs sipped his drink. "And you did this… why? For sick thrills?"

"Of course not!" Steel said angrily. "I did it because Time had already broken through, and _there was no other way to stop it_."

"So, you sacrificed one man for the greater good."

"Yes."

"Then you did what you had to do."

"That's simply a rationalization, Jethro, and you know it as well as I do."

"Sure. But sometimes rationalizing is the only thing that lets you sleep at night," Gibbs said. "Well, that and the bourbon."

Steel snorted. "I never used to drink alcohol. Or sleep, for that matter."

"So you picked up some bad habits," Gibbs said with a shrug. "Happens to the best of us."

"You're taking all of this rather well, Jethro. Most people would be a bit disconcerted to find out that their best friend wasn't quite what they thought he was."

"I'm not most people. You know that, Ducky."

Steel laughed at this. "Yes. Yes I do."

Gibbs smiled. "You know, I don't think this is easy for Sapphire, either."

This change in subject caught Steel off guard, and it was a moment before he answered. "She seems to be doing better with it than I am."

"You sure about that?"

"Well…"

"Why don't you talk to her and find out?" He finished his bourbon and set the empty glass on the counter and moved toward the door. At the last second, he turned back. "Or would that be too easy?"

"'Easy' is not the word that springs to mind, Jethro."

Gibbs shrugged. "Maybe that's the problem."

* * *

When Steel came back into the living room, McGee rose.

"I have to take off, Ducky," he said apologetically. "I have some stuff I have to do."

Gibbs and Ziva took this as their cue as well. Steel walked his guests to the door.

"Thank you for that delicious dinner," Ziva said, and impulsively bent to kiss his cheek.

"Thank Sapphire," he replied. "I can't cook to save my life."

"Ducky cooks," she reminded him. "But…" she shrugged. "I guess things change."

Gibbs was watching him carefully. "Some things do," Steel agreed slowly. "But not the things that are really important."

"Take care, Duck," Gibbs said, and extended his hand. Steel stared at it for a moment before clasping it in his own. They shook.

"This isn't goodbye, Jethro."

Gibbs's eyebrows went up. "Isn't it?"

"I hope not," Steel told him truthfully. He watched them walk to their cars, and then shut the door.

He found Abby sitting alone in the living room, a drink in her hand. "They went in the dining room," she explained. "Sapphire and Tony are going to teach Eddy and Silver how to play bridge."

"Tony plays bridge?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah. That's… actually kind of weird, huh?"

"Well, it's not the _strangest_ thing I've learned today," he said dryly.

She laughed. "Me neither!"

He went to a small side table stocked with a bottle of scotch and some glasses and made himself another drink, and then joined her on the sofa.

"You look sad," she finally observed.

"Do I?" He sighed. "I'm so old now, Abigail. You can't even imagine…"

She reached over and took his hand. "Tell me."

He sipped his drink. It was a moment before he spoke, and his eyes were distant and unfocused, as though he were looking at something she couldn't see.

"Time is all around us. I stand in it as one would stand in a river, and I watch as everyone else – you, Jethro, everyone – is swept past me by its inexorable current. But it doesn't move _me_. It _can't_."

She took a breath. "I think that's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

He shook his head. "I've lost my way, Abigail." He looked so forlorn that it made her want to cry.

She finished her drink and set the empty glass on the coffee table.

She stood. "Come on," she said, tugging him to his feet.

He gulped down his scotch and put his glass next to hers.

Without another word, she led him upstairs. And for a while, he was able to forget.

* * *

Later.

Steel was lying on his back, staring at up at the ceiling. Next to him, Abby was sound asleep in the darkness.

And suddenly, he saw the way. It had been there – right in front of him! – all along.

[_Sapphire_,] he sent to her. It was a moment before she answered.

[_Yes?_] He got the sense that she had been deeply asleep… and that she wasn't alone either.

[_It's time we had a talk._]

[_All right. I'll be there soon._]

Steel got out of bed carefully, trying not to wake Abby. She murmured something that he couldn't make out and turned onto her side.

He found Ducky's robe in the darkness and padded into the bathroom. He washed his face and combed his hair, not bothering with the light.

Sapphire was already in the living room when he came downstairs. She was wearing a bathrobe that he recognized as having come from the Four Seasons Hotel, and was fixing herself a drink.

"I'm sorry to have woken you," he apologized, and saw her shrug.

"It's all right." She turned to him, smiling, and offered him a drink. "I've made you one, too."

He shrugged. "Why not?" he agreed.

They went to the sofa together, and he saw that someone – probably Sapphire – had taken away his and Abby's empty glasses from earlier. He settled himself on the sofa beside her and watched as she produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of her robe.

"Donald Mallard would tell you that smoking is very bad for your health," he admonished.

She shook out a cigarette and lit it.

"And Steel knows that it makes absolutely no difference, because there are very few things that can kill one of us." She took a long drag on the cigarette and exhaled smoke. "And this isn't one of them."

He suddenly recalled what Gibbs had said earlier about picking up bad habits.

He took a sip of his drink, and noticed how she held both her cigarette and her drink in one hand in a way that struck him as elegant, sophisticated. Sapphire had always had style, he reflected.

"How are you coping with all of this?" she suddenly asked. He answered without thinking about it.

"Badly," he admitted. "And you?"

Her smile was rueful. "It's all so unreal. It's like… like Sapphire was a dream that Patsy Stone had, for years and years and years. And then Patsy woke up and found out it wasn't a dream after all."

He nodded. "Yes… that's a fairly good metaphor," he agreed. "And your friend?"

"Eddy?" Sapphire laughed. "Eddy wants to become an Elemental, too. She begged and begged. It was quite sad, in a way."

Steel was surprised by this, because the woman had struck him as shallow and selfish and not especially bright. "She's interested in mending Time?"

Sapphire laughed again. "Eddy? Mending Time? God, no! She wants to be young and thin, to be able to change her appearance at will, and to have all of Time to use as her personal wardrobe!"

"Ah," he said, understanding. "I should have known."

Sapphire suddenly sobered. "Look, she's not _all_ bad, Steel. And for many years, she was the only real friend that I had."

"Well, that's all over now."

She took a drag on her cigarette.

"Is it?" She studied him through the smoke. "I believe your friend Abigail thinks it's only just begun."

"You leave her out of this!"

Sapphire knew when to let a subject drop. "I'll be going back tomorrow."

He frowned. "To England?"

"No." She gave him a meaningful look. "To my _real_ life."

He sighed. "I suppose I'll go with you."

"That's your decision to make," she said. And then, she sent him a memory:

_They are in a junk shop, looking for the trigger that had allowed Time to break through. In this place that is filled with old, long-abandoned objects, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack._

_"Time _has _broken through, hasn't it?" he asks._

_"Yes."_

_His voice is tinged with bitterness. "And we, as usual, have been told too late."_

_Sapphire is always the optimist. "Well, we're not too late to stop whatever's happening."_

_"We're too late to have prevented it happening in the first place. We should have been here earlier, _before _things happen, _before _things_ break through_. Someone should be here,_ waiting_."_

_"That's impossible!" she protests._

_"It's not at all impossible."_

_"There aren't enough of us."_

_"There are_ more _than enough of us!"_

_"Well, who would volunteer?" she asks._

_"Volunteer?" he repeats dubiously._

_"Yes. Simply to sit and wait, maybe for hundreds of Earth years. Would you?"_

_"Mmm, that depends."_

_"You_ wouldn't _," she says scornfully. "I know you!"_

Steel came back to himself. "Yes," he said slowly. "Yes, I think you and I are on the same page. I'll go back with you, but we'll go _tonight_. I need to make some arrangements..."

* * *

The autopsy room door opened, but Jimmy didn't look up from his computer screen.

"Good morning, Mister Palmer," Ducky said briskly, and now Jimmy _did_ look up.

Ducky was hanging up his coat and hat… and he looked exactly as he should. The young man known as Steel was gone now, replaced by the elderly medical examiner in his usual bow tie.

"Doctor… _Mallard_?" he asked incredulously.

"For the moment, anyway," Ducky agreed.

"OK…" Jimmy began to wonder if he should ask for some time off work and the name of a good therapist.

As if reading his mind, Ducky added, "But I may be called away unexpectedly from time to time," and his eyes twinkled with mischief. He sobered. "Now, have you gotten the toxicology reports for poor Captain Michaels? Surely they should be back by now…"

FINIS.


End file.
